


The time Sam'n'Dean didn't pick up a girl. A

by Vesta (Biggelois)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-08
Updated: 2010-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-09 09:03:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biggelois/pseuds/Vesta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean realises a few things. All he needs to do is getting Sam to realise the same things. Dean's POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	The time Sam'n'Dean didn't pick up a girl. A

**Author's Note:**

> This is the follow up to The last time Sam'n'Dean picked up a girl. The story is divided in two parts: Dean's POV and Sam's POV. The texts are overlapping; Sam's POV begins in the middle and continues after the end of Dean's POV.

 

Dean needed to get laid. Desperately. Sam had been odd since the last time they picked up a girl. Cranky, to say the least. He refused to go out, refused to go for beers, refused to get laid. Dean was quite capable of doing that himself but what was the fun in that? Seriously? Got so much better when they shared. Got him off like a rocket to see Sam fuck the girls they picked up.

 

Finally, after three days, he had had it. Dean physically dragged Sam to the bar down the street, perhaps if he got there he would get out off the funk. Didn't help at all. Sam sat by the bar, looking morose and nothing Dean did mattered. Not the beer, not the chasers, not the pretty girl he pointed at, suggesting. Sam just glared at him. Dean realised they had to do it, they had to 'talk'. Something was up with Sam and damn if he could figure out what. He arranged a table and two beers. You needed that when you had to 'talk'.

 

"So, Sammy…"

 

"Don't call me that!"

 

"So, Sam…What's crawled up your ass and died?" Dean tried for a relaxed tone but quickly came to the conclusion that it had failed. Sam reached over the table and grabbed Dean by the jacket, hauling him halfway up from the seat. "Nothing's crawled up there. You got me? Nothing!" He let go and sat back down.

 

Dean raised his hands in a peace gesture. "Whoa, dude, you so need to get some. Like right now."

 

"Is that the answer to everything?" Sam sneered at him. "The ultimate solution? Fuck you, Dean. I've had it with you and I've had it with picking up girls all the time."

 

"But…"

 

"No! There will be no more girls." Sam leaned over the table. "They are a waste of time."

 

"But…"

 

"You never listen to me, Dean. I've been trying to tell you something for the last few days and you just won't fucking listen!"

 

"Telling me? You haven't said three words to me since the weekend. You've been glaring at me, but that doesn't count as telling." Dean sat back, aiming a hard stare at Sam. "You have to be a little more specific than staring holes in my back, little brother. What's the matter with you? Cat got your tongue?"

 

"You're still not listening, you just hear what you want to hear. I give up." He stood so fast he almost tipped the chair over. "I'm going to the bathroom."

 

Dean stared after Sam's disappearing back. 'Waste of time', how the hell could girls be a waste of time? He turned the thought around in his head. It scared him a whole lot, but he had to face it: this was worse than having to 'talk',this was an Oprah moment. He hated the Oprah moments. Too much mush.

 

He thought back on the last time they had had company. Sam was having issues with something that had happened then, if Dean read him right. Had been a good night though, good girl, small and hot and damn the pigtails. Sam had gone totally wild on her, fucking her from behind, licked Dean's mouth… and when Dean had helped…him…aim…stroked that big, hard cock…and he had looked into Sam's eyes when he came…

 

Dean drained his glass and got another one. There had been something unreadable in Sam's eyes for the last few days. Always looking at Dean, and those looks had driven Dean crazy. They needed a girl so he could get…Sam naked. Naked. Tall and lean and everything that had ever mattered. As if Sam had been trying to tell him something, looking oddly… Dean slammed the glass down. "I'm not stupid," he told the glass. "Not at all."

 

He stomped off to the bathroom. Now they could have the freaking Oprah moment because Dean knew what he had to do.

 

Sam was leaning on the sink when Dean walked in. He looked up in the mirror and made a sour face when he saw Dean by the door, but he didn't move, just stood there. He did quirk an eyebrow when Dean locked the door and stepped up right behind Sam, close as he could without touching.

 

"So, waste of time, huh?" Dean crossed his arms over his chest as he met Sam's gaze in the mirror. Sam nodded. "Care to explain why it is a waste of time?" Sam made to stand up but Dean caught him and held him down, bent over the sink.

 

"Dean, what are you…"

 

"Lay off the whining. Why is it a waste of time?" 

 

Sam tried to twist away but Dean had him by the hip and the neck, pinning him. "The fuck, Dean? What are you doing?" Sam snarled at him.

 

"I'm asking you a question, that's what I'm doing." Dean moved that last inch closer and pressed against Sam's ass. "But I think I know the answer already. Right, Sammy?" He pushed hard, only stopping Sam from hitting the mirror by grabbing his hair, yanking his head back.

 

"I think I know what's gotten your panties all bunched up, Princess. Am I right?" He pressed closer again, rolled his hips. He was already half hard and there was no chance that Sam didn't feel it. "This, Sammy, this is what you want."

 

Sam didn't answer, just stared at him in the mirror, eyes like saucers. Dean waited for a reaction, it was Sam's call now. Sam's eyes widened even more, and he looked like he was going to start shouting. That wasn't going to happen, this was a yes or no deal. Yes, go for it. No, back off and freak out quietly. But there was no damn reason to freak. Dean had it figured and it was just a matter of getting Sam to get that Dean had swallowed hook, line and sinker. Screw the rest.

 

He bumped his pelvis gently against Sam's bottom again to draw him out of the staring.  "If you're gonna freak, do it now and do it fast. 'Cause I'm gonna take you back and fuck you."

 

A soft whine made its way between Sam's lips and Dean could see the pink tip of his tongue. Sam licked his lips and whined again, his eyes rolling back in his head. That was what Dean had waited for, he hadn't expected written permission exactly but the noise, god damn the noise, told him that he was right. It was bad, but the soft whine had him wanting to do nasty things to Sam. Have him sound like that again, look at Dean with almost scared eyes, scared but wanting. Bend Sam to fit where he wanted him.

 

He put his hand on Sam's belly, bending over his back, pressing as close as he could. He could feel the tremble in Sam's legs, the heat radiating off him through the layers of clothes he wore. Dean cussed silently at the hoodie covering Sam's neck. He so wanted to get his teeth there, his lips, feel Sam's pulse, smell him where the skin is so very thin. He settled for the second best and licked Sam's ear instead, purring at the shiver that brought.

 

 "Thought so, had it figured already," he said. "Should have figured before. The way you looked at me, touched me. Fucking licked my face when I had eaten her out." Sam groaned in answer. He still hadn't said anything, but his restlessly twitching hips were clear enough.

 

Dean slipped his hand under Sam's shirts, pressing his palm flat against the soft skin. "But you have to tell me, Sammy. Say you want, say what you want." He moved his hand lower resting it just above the waist line of Sam's jeans. "Your shot now."

 

Sam's shot was to grab Dean's hand and push it lower, over his crotch and Dean couldn't hold back a moan when he felt the hard ridge in Sam's jeans.  "You're talking too much, Dean," Sam said. And that was so unexpected that Dean lost his momentum. He stared at Sam, meeting his eyes in the mirror. Eyes with pupils blown wide, dark, in a way that Dean had only seen a few times before.

 

"Too much talking and not enough action." Sam grinned at him, more teeth than smile. "Get to it." He pushed his ass back at Dean, the message clear. "You never say anything at all but now you're all talk and no do?" Dean snapped.

 

He shoved his hand down Sam's pants and holy hell the man was hard. Pants too tight to get a proper grip but he rubbed his hand over Sam's hard dick the best he could, felt the wetness already at the tip. "Fuck, Sam, gonna have you," he ground out. "Right now, gotta feel..."

 

Sam let go off the sink and pushed himself up, "Fucking do something about it then. I'm game." He pulled Dean's hand from his jeans and turned around. "You gotta kiss me first though."

 

Dean found his momentum again. Sam's hands around his face and the softest lip he had ever felt, that was enough to kick-start him again. So freaking typical of Sam to get the upper hand here too but Dean was having none of that. Screw the Oprah moment and screw the talk he had geared up for. He grabbed Sam by the neck and kissed him back. And holy hell again the man could kiss. Dean wondered briefly why they hadn't done this before but shoved the thought away, too close to Oprah moment.

 

There was no finesse or any of the coaxing that took place when they shared girl. Only hard hands yanking and pulling to get to it. Teeth and tongues and lips where they could reach and there would be bruises later, but who could care about that? Dean felt his pulse pounding through him, felt a little dizzy because this was so much better than he could ever have imagined. Sam naked on a bed, ass up and ready would be better but they would get to that too.

 

Not right then though. Right then Dean was busy pushing Sam to his knees on the dirty floor. Guiding his aching dick into the wet, slick heat, feeling Sam's tongue wrap around him, mouth swallowing him down. It would have been so easy to just get off like that but Dean took a hold of himself, let his cock slide over Sam's tongue, push deep, felt him swallow and his throat constrict around him. Dean tangled his fingers in Sam's hair, holding him steady while he thrust. "Should get you pigtails," he grunted. "Can hold you down better." Sam made a noise at that, low deep rumbled that vibrated through Dean from cock to hips to belly and back.

 

"You like that? Me holding you down?" The question was rhetorical, no way Sam could answer with his mouth full. "Hold your hands behind your back, on your knees, fuck you long and slow and deep." Dean looked down on Sam, saw his hand move on his own cock, the other desperately holding on to Dean's trouser leg. "Gonna do that, " he promised. "Not now though. Gonna have you now, make you walk out off here with my come dripping from your ass."  Sam wailed, making little sparks go off in Dean's head.

 

Dean pulled Sam off of him, held his head still, fingers in the too-long hair. Too soon to come, he wanted it to last longer and he wanted Sam writhing on his cock. Wanted like a tidal wave coursing through him. Sam looked up at him, eyes at half mast, mouth red and swollen, fucked. Dean groaned. Too hot for his own good. Sam was still jacking himself, cockhead peaking up between his fingers, leaking, dribbling wet.

 

 "Dean, Dean, please." Sam licked his lips, his voice a little rough after having his throat fucked like that but the words came out softly, almost pleading. It wasn't like Sam to plead, not for anything. It was such a total switch from just a few minutes ago, with Sam all bossy and demanding. But Dean knew how he liked it when they fucked. He wanted it sloppy and dirty and a little rough. But that was when he was doing the fucking, when there were women involved, now he was on his knees, ready to ask for it. Understanding shot like a current through Dean, he understood what Sam was asking for. Understood why the women had been a waste of time. They were taking the place Sam wanted. Under Dean. On his belly. Dean groaned again, this was almost too much. Freaking Oprah moments of understanding and getting in touch with feelings.

 

"Yeah, Sam, I know. You'll get it." He pulled Sam up by the hair, not hard but firmly. No matter that this was the first time they had each other, there were no hesitation when they moved. Sam turned and leaned on the sink again, ass thrust out at Dean, silently pleading again. Sam's silence would have been worrying if Dean hadn't got the message already.

 

Dean slipped two fingers in Sam's mouth. "Get them wet, I'm gonna open you up." Sam latched on the fingers like they were Dean's cock and the feeling was nearly as good. He swirled his tongue around, wetting them. Sloppy. That Dean could do. He pulled his fingers out and crouched down behind Sam. He wanted to see what he was about do.

 

Sam was trembling. Small quivers ran through him, legs twitching. Dean could feel the twitches when he put his hands on Sam's ass checks, spreading him open. It was uncomfortable, crouching with his cock sticking out, hard and swollen. The soft rub against his shirt had him hissing. Dean smacked himself mentally, time to concentrate. He blew over Sam's hole, watched it clench and twitch. He hadn't done this in a long time, there had been no guys for years, only women. He stuck his tongue out and touched it tentatively to Sam's ass.

 

The reaction was explosive. Sam bucked, whined, writhed. Begged, for Dean's tongue, for his cock, for anything that Dean would give. Dean buried his tongue inside, licked Sam open. Or as much as he had patience for. He eased his two wet fingers inside along his tongue, felt Sam go rigid for a second. The thought hit him, had Sam ever done this before? A mean snake of jealousy coiled in Dean's stomach. What if he had? When?

 

He stood up, fingers still inside Sam. "You done this before?" He had to ask, had to know and expected a no. The hissed 'Yes' caught him off guard. The mean snake uncoiled and Dean bit Sam, hard, right over his pulse point. Sam made a pained noise deep in his throat and Dean could feel it vibrate on his tongue.  "The fuck, Sam? When?" Dean lapped over the red bite mark, it would bruise and the thought ran hot and eager through him. Bruised to show that Sam was already owned.

 

Sam panted, gasped out 'Stanford' and Dean had just had it. Not so much where Sam had done it, or with whom, but he was sure not going to do it again with anyone else. He curled his fingers inside Sam, made him give up that soft whine again. "Ready? Gotta have you now, Sam. If you're gonna tell me no, do that now. Not gonna stop when I'm inside."

 

Dean looked up into the mirror, met Sam's eyes again and there it was, that look. Almost scared but wanting. Sam's eyes were nearly black, gleaming, and Dean could see the heat in them. Sam had expressive eyes and right then they told Dean to get the fuck on. He pulled his fingers out, Sam wasn't stretched enough but damn if he could wait any longer. And Sam would tell him if it went wrong, if it hurt too much, no matter that Dean had said no stopping. But Dean wanted it to hurt, just a little, make Sam feel him inside and out. That would require another Oprah moment, this possessive streak and wish to mark but that could wait. Not that Sam seemed to mind though, he moved into Dean's hold, spreading his legs as much as he could. Dean spat in his hand and slicked himself, rubbed his cock over Sam's hole and that was nearly it. Sam whined again, pushed back and just opened around Dean. Sam couldn't have done this much though and not in a long time because damntighthotass. It took all his willpower to not just slam inside.

 

It was hard to push in, almost too tight and Sam kept whining all the way through, wriggling his ass. Dean couldn't tell if it was from hurting or just wanting more. His brains had fried somewhere between the first touch to the clenching opening and the first inch inside.

 

Dean's thighs slapped against Sam's, scratchy denim rubbed in all the wrong places and he couldn't get enough leverage with his jeans trapping his legs. The angle was slightly off too, Sam being that much taller. Dean grabbed him by the neck again, bent him over. And that did it, Sam caught himself with a hand on the mirror when Dean bottomed out, bending even further at the waist, bending his knee like he was sitting on Dean's cock.

 

It took a few tries but they got it going. Dean pushing in, Sam pushing back. Hotter than any of the ladies they had picked up, nothing in between. Sam was making those delicious noises, a never-ending stream of pleaseDeanfuckDean and that was the sweetest he had heard. He reached around and grabbed Sam's dick, probably too hard but he didn't care. Sam was hard and huge in his hand and Dean heard himself talking again, knew it had to be him saying 'bigfuckingcock, fuck your ass, gonna leak my come smell of me' and he just couldn’t let go of Sam. Had to hold him, couldn't get enough of the sounds Sam made when he squeezed just so.

 

 There was no rhythm or delicate thrusting. Sam was bucking under him, both hands braced on the mirror, staring at Dean through sweat soaked bangs. They had too many clothes on, had just unbuttoned and pushed down enough to reach. Everyone would be able to smell on them what they had done. See it on their fucked out faces. Dean grinned, that was half the point. Again with the possessiveness. The though had him calming a little, making him able to really look at Sam. He had seen that look before, the almost-there look, the way Sam's lips tensed over his teeth in a grimace. Pretty cocksucking lips, Dean had to have them around him again soon.

 

Sam looked like it almost hurt too much but Dean knew better. Sam was almost there, and if the face hadn't been enough he could feel it in the way Sam clenched around him. Like a velvet glove stroking and fluttering, pulling him in. He chanced a glance to where he moved inside Sam, saw the red swollen hole opening around him, letting him in. That only added fuel to the fire, seeing Sam's tight hole so fucked open. He jacked Sam faster, had to get him off right fucking now, wanted to feel Sam come around him. And he was so close himself, he could feel it coil and unwind in his hips, his belly, spiralling out like firecrackers going off.

 

He couldn't hold back. Dean bent over Sam's back, gripping his hip hard enough to leave fingerprints, sinking his teeth in Sam's collar to muffle the howl that wanted out. They had kept it down until then, the only sounds in the bathroom had been their harsh breaths and Sam's half whispered litany of more and please and Dean. But Sam coming around him, spasming and clenching like a vice, broke the little control Dean had left. He slammed in hard, let himself be pulled in, ground his hips to get deeper and coming in hot, spine cracking bursts.

 

Sam's knees sagged when Dean leaned too heavily on him and he grunted from the effort to keep them standing. Dean steadied himself, battled his spinning head and stood up. Sam winced when Dean's softening cock slipped from him and Dean just had to look again. Getting hard 30 seconds after coming is not doable but Dean Junior sure tried. Sam's hole was all red and swollen, like a pouting mouth begging for a kiss and Dean did not want to know where that came from. It was gaping a little, hadn't had the time to close up from being opened so thoroughly and there was a small trickle of come seeping out. Nasty and sloppy and gut wrenching hot. And what was even hotter; Sam was going to walk out from there, leaking come. Dean could vividly imagine how it would trickle down his legs, soaking through the fabric, leaving stains. He groaned. They had to get out fast. Back to the motel, because they were so not done yet.

 

"You done ogling there?" Sam's amused voice brought him back to the dirty toilet. Dean blushed a little, it was kinda embarrassing to get caught like that. Especially since Sam was smiling at him, cheeks still flushed, lips swollen, and with a decidedly wicked gleam in his eyes. "If you're done staking claims, can we go back now? I need to wash up."

 

Staking claims, what the hell? Dean blushed harder. Sam knew him too well, making him blush with a few words and a smile, knew every way to rub Dean the wrong way. Time to get back in control again before Sam had him stuttering. He yanked Sam up and turned him around, holding him close. He let one hand trail down Sam's back to his ass, inching a finger down his crack. "Wanna know what's gonna happen when we get back?" The smile on Sam's lips faltered a little. He pushed against Sam's hole, feeding just the tip of his finger inside.

 

"Gonna put you on the bed, spread your legs and lick my come from your fucked open little hole. Stick my tongue in there and get you so wet for me. Then I'm gonna hold you down and take you again. On your back, like a girl, and you're gonna whimper like a girl too, when I fuck you so deep you can feel me in your belly."

 

Sam's smile was gone and he was panting. Dean felt a nudge against his thigh, Sam was getting hard again. That pretty, big cock was at half mast already. Dean grinned. He knew definitely what he had to do. Totally screw the Oprah moment. No talking needed here, at least not that kind of talking. The other kind of talking though, that was so on. "I think I'm gonna suck you too, before I fuck you. See how much of that monster cock of yours I get in my mouth. Like that? Me choking on your dick?"

 

Dean didn't get any further. Sam pulled free, yanked his pants back up, grabbed Dean by the neck and kissed him. "Shut up, just shut up. We're leaving now." He barely had time to do up his own pants before Sam opened the door and dragged Dean with him.


End file.
